


anything at all

by elfdaughter (hopper)



Category: Gintama
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-30
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2018-01-13 15:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1231675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopper/pseuds/elfdaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abuto avoids answering questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	anything at all

"When you get married."

"What?"

"When Abuto finds a wife." Kamui’s voice was muffled, his mouth where the folds of Abuto’s sleeve scrunched up at the elbow of his right arm.

"What makes you think that will ever happen?"

"Your mother wants you to, doesn’t she? Also you’re always going on about the blood of the Yato dying out. Don’t you want to do something about it?"

"I am doing something about it. I’m always doing something about it," Abuto began, irrationally annoyed by his captain’s suggestion.

"So when you find a wife, are you leaving?" Kamui’s head shifted slightly on Abuto’s upper arm, like he was thinking of turning to face Abuto but discarded the thought almost as quickly as he’d thought it. "The Harusame. It’s not any sort of place to bring up kids, is it."

"It’s not."

"I’m never going to sire children," Kamui said abruptly.

"That’s your choice," Abuto responded tonelessly.

"Aren’t you going to scold me? About the future of our race?"

"It’s not your responsibility."

"Then is it yours?"

In lieu of a response, Abuto lifted Kamui’s braid away from his neck and over one shoulder. Abuto’s remaining arm was pillowed beneath the boy’s head, so he had to use his teeth. He nuzzled aside the loose cloth of Kamui’s unbuttoned collar until the coat and shirt slid out of the way and kissed the warm nape of his neck. He paused a moment with his nose half-buried in the hair behind his ear, and when Kamui still didn’t budge, he continued to kiss. Each bump of his spine visible above the cloth. He felt Kamui’s shoulders tense up momentarily and smiled into the hollow of a shoulder blade that formed as the boy reached around behind him and grasped Abuto by his scratchy chin.

"You’re not…" Kamui’s voice came out a little raspy. He cleared his throat and said again, "You’re not answering my question."

"Which question?"

"You didn’t answer any of them," Kamui said angrily, lunging. Abuto found his face trapped between his captain’s thin hands, felt his captain’s teeth on his chin, his jaw, his lower lip, the skin over his jugular. Abuto breathed out all at once, watched Kamui’s impossibly long lashes tremble from the strength of his exhale; the shadows looked like bruises against his paper-pale cheeks. Abuto opened his mouth to him as the boy moved higher, welcomed a kiss that stung distinctly of his captain’s displeasure, and kissed him deeply in return.

"None of your questions are fair," Abuto replied when Kamui raised himself up with a gasp for breath. Abuto lifted his right arm in spite of the pins and needles from Kamui sleeping on it, molded his hand over Kamui’s waist and dug a thumb satisfyingly around his pelvic ridge. "I don’t want to sound like a hypocrite."

"I don’t care. No matter what you say, I won’t care." Kamui did not meet his gaze, eyes lowered as though the buttons he was undoing down Abuto’s front required more concentration than he had to spare.

When the last button had been unbuttoned and his shirt pulled open and shoved aside, Abuto moved his hand, which had been kneading a narrow hip, up to grasp Kamui by the back of his neck and draw him close. He wrapped his only arm around his captain, tightly.

"This useless old one-armed rabbit is never going to find a wife. And probably won’t be lucky enough to live to see his retirement. That’s how it’s going to happen whether we like it or not."

For close to a minute, Kamui lay there, his breath hot against Abuto’s chest, his hair tickling Abuto’s chin. He seemed to concede; his shoulders relaxed visibly as Abuto passed a calloused palm over his back.

"I don’t care. Either way," Kamui mumbled. "I don’t care what you want."

"That’s okay."

Abuto had one of those brief flashes of regret he would get each time since the first time he coaxed the young captain into his bed. He had been so laughably desperate then, he didn’t care if Kamui changed his volatile mind and decided to kill him in the morning as an example to the entire seventh squad. What would Abuto’s poor old mother, still waiting for grandchildren, ever think of this; and was he, in fact, jeopardizing the last of Umibouzu’s legacy, and so forth. But in this very moment, his primary regret, as he encircled Kamui’s thigh with his right hand, was his missing left arm. He regretted not being able to touch Kamui any more than this, he regretted not being able to braid the lazy brat’s hair or be as much help to his captain as he’d once been in battle.

One day, he mulled, he would be completely useless. He would be old and probably smell funny and wouldn’t be able to get it up anymore. Abuto chuckled to himself. Yeah, he really would rather be dead before then.

But he wouldn’t leave. He couldn’t bring himself to leave if he tried. Maybe in another life, he’d walked past the bleeding boy in the gutter. Maybe in another life, his captain had killed him in Yoshiwara. Whatever the reason, if it even were karma to begin with, in this life they made love; and Kamui looked at him as though he were the beautiful one instead; and Abuto felt all at once blinded and deafened and silenced because for him there was only Kamui, and if it weren’t for this one unthinkable beauty, then there wouldn’t be

`fin.`


End file.
